


Imagine A Boy

by Tippytap



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Dana Scully is a protecter, Gen, Librarians are heroes, Mulder is a bookworm, Pre-Canon, and childhood trauma lasts a long time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-15
Updated: 2020-03-15
Packaged: 2021-02-28 19:02:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23152189
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tippytap/pseuds/Tippytap
Summary: When Mulder was just boy who wanted to understand what to believe.
Relationships: Fox Mulder & Dana Scully
Comments: 8
Kudos: 11





	Imagine A Boy

Imagine a boy.

  
A young boy.

  
A frightened boy.

  
He likes baseball and horror movies and old pulp comics.

  
His sister has disappeared.

  
He says aliens took her.

  
He reads and reads and reads.

  
The librarians take him in, poor sad boy, and show him how to use the card catalog.

  
Science and folklore and myths and conspiracies.

Unexplained phenomena.

He needs them all.

  
Every week he is there, armfuls of books placed on the counter.

  
There are whispers around you know.

  
That something is not quite right with Fox Mulder.

  
Poor boy.

  
Crazy boy.

  
The police think Samantha was kidnapped.

They think he saw.

And that he is using aliens to absorb his trauma.

  
"If only he would remember" they say.

  
"Then we could catch the man and find the girl."

  
But yet he persists.

Insists.

  
Their patience runs out.

  
Nobody believes in the confused little Fox.

  
None but his librarians.  
Cookies and juice and attentive listeners are comforting rewards for his loyal patronage.  
He knows he must learn.  
If people are to believe him he must be credible.  
His grades are good.  
His social life…  
Well.  
You must understand that "Spooky" is not a name he picked up only in college.

  
He's nice.  
He's friendly.  
But the boy is dreamy.  
He seems to be floating just above the ground.  
He hangs out with the stoners and the scientists.  
Yet no one wants to be his friend.  
Telescopes.  
Microscopes.  
Large and little things.  
He sets out to learn them all.  
Dog-eared books.  
Highlighted and underlined.  
Crammed on bulging sagging shelves.

  
His parents drift apart.  
They argue every night.  
Screaming words and hurt and hatred.  
He knows they blame him.  
They never say.  
But he can feel.  
There is a separation of inches between.

  
His father leaves.  
His mother drinks.  
He just wants to go back to school.  
And find out what the truth actually is.  
And to not sit alone when he goes to the movies.  
And sometimes.  
Every so often.  
He still wants to be a baseball star.

He gets a job at the FBI.  
Still no one likes him.  
But he solves his cases.  
"Hard worker" say some "Weirdo" say most.  
"Spooky" hissed at his back.  
He hates Halloween.

  
Questions questions questions.  
Sneaking into files.  
He makes secret smoking suits very unhappy.  
Banished into basements.  
He doesn't care...

  
A sanctuary all to himself.  
To investigate the weird and the uncomfortable.  
Becoming a voice to the unheard.  
The disreputable and disbelieved.  
Lessons learned as a child.  
Comfort given to one hurt and scorned.  
He remembers them all.

And then one day.  
Down into the damp and the dark.  
A red haired breath of freedom.  
Government watchdog.  
Turned ally and confidant.  
She doesn't believe his stories.  
But she believes in him.  
The next person to call out "Spooky" and ping an eraser off his shoulder.  
Quickly learns that you should never patronize Agent Scully.  
Or antagonize those that she decides are hers.

He brings in takeout.  
One boring dreadful day.  
Her favorite place and her favorite things.  
She seems surprised.  
Like she didn't think he'd notice.  
Or remember.  
He needs to work on that.  
Connection.

"Hey, Mulder?"  
"Yeah?"  
"Would you like to see a movie?"

He smiles.  
And a tickle spreads from the pit of his belly.  
Up and out to his shoulders.  
It feels like a little bit of summer.

"Sure.  
What's playing?"


End file.
